


I Will Survive

by foureyed_tozier



Series: I Will Survive - ‘Till I’m Dead (Trans!Stan Universe) [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Asexual Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough's Parents (briefly), Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Canonical Child Abuse, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Stanley Uris, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Homophobic Language, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, I’ll just keep adding tags as I go along, I’m sorry in advance, Mike Hanlon is a Good Friend, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Rating because of chapter 15, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Stanley Uris-centric, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trans Male Character, Transphobic Language (because Bowers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-06-08 09:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foureyed_tozier/pseuds/foureyed_tozier
Summary: Jessica Uris was a thriving high school student. She had a 4.0 GPA, a crush on a cute boy, and she was happy.At least, that's what she kept telling herself.AKA, the ftm Trans!Stan fic nobody asked for but I decided to write anyway.





	1. Helena (So Long & Goodnight)

**Author's Note:**

> _So Long and Goodnight_
> 
>  
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>  
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>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _So Long, not Goodnight_

_12.41am, April 15th, 2018 - ???_

_In. Out. In. Out._

_"It's gonna be okay, Stan."_

_"How do you know that?"_

"Oh my God, Stanley-" 

"What did he do-" 

_"So you're... t-t-transgender?"_

_"Yeah."_

"Get help!" 

"911, what's your emergency?" 

"M-m-my f-f-friend- I th-think he's d-duh-dying-"

_"Holy shit, what happened to you?"_

_"Beep beep, Rich."_

"Sir. Sir, I can't understand you-"

"Give me the phone!" 

_"Do you ever feel wrong?"_

_"Wrong?"_

"We're at 315 Johnson Avenue. Yes. Please, I don't think he's gonna make it-"

_"Look, it's the Tranny!"_

__

__

_"Leave me alone, Bowers."_

"Breathe. Breathe for me, Stanley!" 

"We're losing him!"

_"Sometimes I don't want to be here anymore."_

__

__

_"Don't talk like that, Stan. We'll be here for you."_

_In. Out. In-_


	2. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm not okay_   
>  _I'm not o-fucking-kay_

_12.37am, January 18th, 2013 - Beverly’s Room_

_“Do you ever feel wrong?” Jessica asked Beverly on one of their many, many sleepovers._

_Beverly rolled over, her sleeping bag shifting noisily as she faced Jessica, a small frown tugging at her candy-pink lips. “Wrong?”_

_“You know, like...” Jessica struggled for a moment, attempting to formulate the emotions speeding through her mind into words that made sense. “Like when someone calls your name, it just doesn’t feel... right?” She kept her eyes trained firmly on the ceiling as he spoke. “Like you just freeze because you know they mean you but it doesn’t feel like... **you**?” _

_Beverly rolled over on her stomach, lips forming a thoughtful pout as she propped her head up on her hand. “Only sometimes,” she said. “Whenever my Dad calls me Bevvie...” she trailed of with a shiver, her brows knitting together in concentration. “It feels like that.”_

_“Oh,” Jessica said softly, her eyes tracing the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of Beverly’s bedroom._

_“He just worries an awful lot,” Beverly said, as if trying to convince herself._

_“Oh. Well... I feel like that all the time,” Jessica told her._

_Beverly giggled quietly. “Then what are we supposed to call you?” She asked with the amused confusion only a child possesses._

_“I don’t know,” Jessica responded._

_They spoke no more of it, lulled asleep by the sound of their own steady breathing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! So,after each chapter is "half-chapter" flashback into Stanley ("Jessica")'s childhood. Enjoy the angst, I guess...?


	3. Towards The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Where you gonna go, where you gonna go, where you gonna run to_   
>  _When you reach the edge of the night_

_4.00pm, March 31st, 2018 - Ben's Room_

Jessica Uris sat cross-legged on Ben Hanscom's bed, smiling. She was a thriving high school student. She had a 4.0 GPA, a crush on a cute boy, and she was happy. 

At least, that's what she kept telling herself. 

Ben typed away diligently on his computer, probably working on their project, like she was supposed to be doing, but instead she smiled down at her phone, re-reading Bill's message to her. 

**Big Bill:** Ok, see u then.  <3

Her grin widened. Did the heart mean anything? Probably not. But a girl can dream, right?

"Jess." Ben's voice tore her gaze away from her phone and up to meet his crystal blue eyes. "Are you even doing anything?" 

"No," She admitted with a breathy laugh. "Sorry, I'm just-" 

"Texting Bill?" He guessed, and she blushed, nodding. Ben sighed and checked his watch. "We've been working for a while. Why don't you just head home?" He suggested. 

"Really?" Jessica sprang to her feet and scooped her backpack up, slinging it over her shoulder. "Thanks, Benny." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Ben's cheek, and he rolled his eyes affectionately.

"Yeah, yeah." He smiled. "Now shoo." 

Jessica practically skipped down the stairs. "Bye, Mrs. Hanscom!" She called over her shoulder. 

"Leaving already, are we? I got you some mac n' cheese in a container, you're so skinny!" 

Her words fell on deaf ears, because Jessica was already gone. 

She had to get ready to meet Bill, after all. 

_4.35pm, March 21st, 2018 - Jessica's Bedroom_

"I hate my body," Jessica growled, tossing aside a dress and running her fingers through her hair. There was nobody around to hear her, but she didn't really care. "Grrrr. I wish I was a guy." She finally settled on a white button-up that she tucked into her khaki booty shorts. She remembered the first time she'd worn them.

_"Oh my Guh-god," Bill snorted. "I d-didn't nuh-know they mad khakis th-that short."_

She bit her lip, glaring at her reflection in the mirror, and left. 

_5.15pm, March 21st, 2018 - The Barrens_

Jessica approached the Losers' normal hiding spot carefully, keeping an ear out for the telltale laughter of the Bowers Gang. 

She didn't hear Henry; however, she did hear two voices quietly murmuring. Strange. She pushed aside some foliage and emerged into their tiny clearing. There were, indeed, two people already in there- Mike and Bill, sitting cross-legged in the center. Mike was leaned in just a little too close to Bill, and the small smile on Bill's face was starting to drop away into something more serious. 

"Hi," Jessica greeted, and Mike jerked away, turning his head towards Jessica. 

"Hey, Jessie." He smiled warmly and rose to his feet. "Well, I better get going, then- wouldn't want to intrude on anything," He said, shooting a wink at Bill. 

"Bye, Mike," Bill said.

"Yeah, bye." Jessica watched Bill as his eyes followed Mike out of the clearing, an unreadable emotion dancing there. 

"Hey, Juh-Jess," He said, finally turning his attention to the girl. "Wuh-what's up?" 

Jessica had texted him in hopes of confessing her crush to him, but something made her hesitate. "Nothing," She said easily, deciding to play it cool. She sat next to Bill, hoping the dirt from the floor wouldn't cling to her ass when she stood, but knowing full well it would. "Just bored." 

"Oh," Bill said. His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. "Do you mind if Richie joins us, th-then?" 

"No." She leaned back on her palms and watched the trees, hoping to spot a bird there she could make note of. Her small backpack weighed heavily on her shoulders. The pair sat in a comfortable silence, the only noise quiet chattering of the birds Jessica couldn't see and the scratch of the pencil against Bill's sketchbook. 

"What's up, fuckers!" Richie burst into the clearing, arms wide and grin as lopsided as the glasses halfway slipping down his nose. He pushed the glasses up his nose and his grin grew. "'Sup, Jess?" He winked, and Jessica rolled her eyes. "Hope you two don't mind that I brought my dear, sweet, Eds along." 

"I'm not your anything," Eddie argued, emerging from the brush behind him, "And don't call me that."

"Don't worry, we don't mind," Jessica said, rolling her eyes. There was really no hope of finding any birds now that Richie's loudmouth had arrived, so she sat all the way up, dusting off her palms. 

"Great!" Richie said, the sarcasm flying right over his head. He plopped down cross-legged in front of Jessica, drawing a rectangular box from his pocket. "I brought cards." 

“Nuh-nice.” Bill grinned. “Let’s play!” 

They sat in a circle amongst the pine needles and the dirt, and they played until the sun dipped below the horizon, painting them in the colors of red and gold. 

_2.30pm, March 22nd, 2018- Derry High Parking Lot_

Jessica say next to Bev by the dumpsters in a comfortable silence, crinkling her nose whenever the wind blew her way. 

Beverly tilted her head back to exhale a cloud of smoke, resting her head on the warm metal of the dumpster and starting up at the cloudless blue sky, flicking the ash from the cigarette between her fingers.

The sleeve of her oversized sweater slipped down, exposing a pristine white bandage wrapped around her wrist. Jessica had long since learned not to ask about Bev’s constant bandaging and bruises, but that didn’t keep her gaze from snagging on the bandage, concern drawing her eyebrows together and tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

Bev jerked the sleeve back up, a strange emotion glinting in her eyes as she looked at Jessica. 

“Sorry, Bevvie,” Jessica said, dropping her gaze. “I know you don’t like it when I ask but-” She cut herself off with a sigh, shifting her gaze back up to meet Bev’s. “I worry,” She finished softly, tilting her chin ever so slightly.

Bev looked away, casting her her gaze out over the parking lot, then back over to Jessica. Tears welled in her eyes and she drew in a gasping breath, dropping her cigarette and crushing Jessica in a surprising but desperate hug. 

Jessica froze for a moment- Beverly avoided physical contact even at the best of times- them melted into the hug, petting Bev’s head as she buried her face into Jessica’s shoulder, her body wracked with sobs as her cigarette sputtered out. 

When her flow of tears finally stopped, Bev drew away, wrapping her arms around herself and looking away from Jessica before speaking. “My dad hits me,” She admitted, voice cracking. 

Jessica’s breath hitched in her throat and she stared at Beverly’s resolutely turned away face for half a heartbeat. “Oh, Bevvie,” She breathed, reaching out and brushing Bev’s shoulder with her fingertips, gently, hesitantly. 

Bev burst into a fresh batch of tears, burying her face in her hands. “I’m s-s-sorry,” She stuttered, sobbing through her words and gasping for air. 

“Don’t be,” Jessica said quietly. “C’mere.” 

And just like that, Beverly was wrapping Jessica in another bone-crushing hug, burying her face back in Jessica’s shoulder and trembling. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Jessica mumbled, although she wasn’t sure how that could be true. “Does your mom know?” Bev shook her head. “I think you should tell your mom.” 

Bev jerked away, her emerald green eyes wide with fear. “What?”

Jessica brushed a curl off of Bev’s forehead as she spoke. “I think telling her will help,” She said. “Maybe... maybe she can get you guys out of there.” 

Beverly bit her lip and nodded. “Out of there,” She breathed.

“Away from him,” Jessica agreed, smiling softly. They sat for a moment in a warm and comfortable silence before Jessica shattered it. “Can I see it?” She asked gently, nodding towards Bev’s wrist. 

“It’s not bleeding,” Beverly said, fingers brushing the key that hung around her neck. “I just didn’t want anyone to see.” She slowly unraveled the bandage covering her wrist, squeezing her eyes shut before she could see Jessica’s reaction. 

“Oh, Bev...” Jessica gently turned over Beverly’s wrist, wincing in sympathetic pain. 

Yellowing, finger-shaped bruises wrapped around the entirety of Bev’s tiny wrist, and Jessica felt her heart break a little. 

“Is there any more?” Beverly nodded, still not opening her eyes. “Can I see them?” Beverly drew in a sharp breath and rapidly shook her head, gripping her key so tight Jessica worried she’d cut her fingers, so she gently pried them off of the small object, smoothing her hand down Bev’s palm and setting her hand on her lap. “Why not?” 

“I can’t show them... here,” Bev said, her gaze flicking to Jessica’s and then away in shame, and she swallowed, her breathing becoming a little quicker than normal. 

“You mean...” Jessica trailed off. “You’d have to...” Beverly simply nodded, and Jessica swallowed agaisnt the sick feeling revolting in her stomach. “Do you want to come over?”

Beverly looked up to meet Jessica’s eyes, her face soft and sad. “I can’t,” She whispered.

Jessica didn’t need to ask why.

 _5.10pm, March 23rd, 2018 - Richie + Jessica’s texts_

**RICH <3:** 'Mercedes has 3 e's and they're all pronounced differently

 **JESS <3:** I hate you.

 **RICH <3:** Aw, I luv u too, Jess! Even more than mah spaghetti

 **JESS <3:** Ugh, you're disgusting.

 **RICH <3:** That's not what ur mom said last nite ;)

 **JESS <3:** I'm trying to work, you know.

 **RICH <3:** yeah, whatever

 **RICH <3:** anyway, my aunt is trans

 **JESS <3:** What? 

**RICH <3:** Remember Uncle Rob from my family reunion?

 **JESS <3:** Yeah.

 **RICH <3:** Forget him. Uncle Rob is no more

 **JESS <3:** You've lost me.

 **RICH <3:** Uncle Rob is now Aunt Riley. 

**JESS <3:** Oh!

 **JESS <3:** Congrats to her!

 **RICH <3:** Yeah

 **RICH <3:** a bit of shock, but we still love her.

 **JESS <3:** Yeah. I gotta work now.

5.15pm, March 23rd, 2018- Ben’s House 

Jessica set her phone down. The word rattled around in her brain. 

_Transgender, Transgender, Transgender._

She stared at the computer in front of her. 

In front of _him?_

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. 

_Transgender, Transgender, Transgender._

_**Him.** _

"Jess?" The name had always felt wrong, but now it sent a violent shiver through his body, and he swallowed against the bile building in his throat. "Are you okay?" 

"No," he responded. "I think I'm gonna puke."

Ben looked alarmed. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

He shook his head. "I think I'm just gonna go home, if that's alright," 

It was- of _course_ it was, Ben insisted. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" 

"Yeah," He said, waving Ben away. 

Then he ran. 

_7.43pm, March 23rd, 2018 - Jessica’s House_

As soon as he got home, he rushed into the bathroom, blowing past his parents, and slammed the door shut behind him, quaking with exhaustion and overwhelming nerves. “Fuck.” He slid down the door, his ass hitting the cold tile painfully and burying his face in his hands. “Fuck,” He repeated petulantly, and tears pricked at his eyes. His hair came down around his shoulders in auburn waves, and he grabbed at a curl. “Fuck,” He practically growled. Something in the back of his mind rolled it’s eyes. Is that the only word you know, dipshit? It asked, sounding suspiciously like Richie. He ignored it, instead rising to his feet and throwing open the vanity drawers. 

_Offoffoffoffoffoffoff,_ his brain screamed. _OffofffofffOFF get it OFF!_ He grabbed the scissors from the drawer and brought it up to his hair. With a snip the first chunk fell, hitting the sink basin with a quiet poof. He turned on the sink, and the hair swirled down the drain. “Off,” He said aloud, the word broken by desperation. He cut again and again and again and again until his hair was a short, chin length bob that was totally uneven and way higher in the back than in the front. He dropped the scissors, pulling the buzz clippers from the drawer. _Offoffoffoffoff._ He slid on the shields- he wasn’t sure which length and he didn’t particularly care- and plugged it in, tilting his head towards the mirror. _OFF._ He raised the buzzer to his head and watched in fascination as the curls dropped away. _OFF. OFF. OFF. OFF._ He shaved and shaved and shaved and shaved until half of his head was smooth. His hands began to tremble and he set the buzzer down, unplugging it for safety’s sake. He raised his gaze to himself in the mirror, slowly bringing a shaky hand up to the shaved side of his head. His fingers brushed through the rough hair and he smiled. 

There was a sharp banging on the door, and he leaped out of his skin. _Damn, I’m lucky I wasn’t still shaving._

“Jessica? Are you okay? You’ve been in there for over an hour!” 

“I know how long I’ve been in here, Mom,” He snapped, then immediately felt bad because no, he hadn’t known he’d been in there that long. “Yeah, I’m okay,” He added in a gentler tone. “I’m just gonna get in the shower, okay?” 

“Well, make it snappy,” His mother said, her light tone obviously forced. “Your father and I never see you anymore! It’s almost like you don’t live here!” 

He forced out a laugh. “Okay, Mom.” 

The soft pitter-patter of his mother’s feet drew away, and he switched on the shower and peeled out of his clothes. 

He didn’t wash anything, simply stood under the spray of cold water for a few minutes, watching the last chunks of shaved hair swirl down the drain. 

He climbed out of the shower and wrapped himself in a fluffy white robe, bracing his forearms agaisnt the bathroom counter and staring at himself in the mirror. 

“Samuel? Simon? No, fuck.” He dropped his forehead to the countertop, running his fingers through his blonde curls. He took a deep, steadying breath and looked himself in the mirror. “Stanley,” He breathed, and the names felt right and his. “Hello,” He said. “I’m Stanley.” And then he began to giggle, euphoria and exhaustion overtaking his system. Stanley. Stanley Uris.

“Jessica!” The spell was broken, irritation filling his mind. 

“What?” He opened the door, clothes tucked under his arm and robe tied securely around his waist.

His mother looked taken aback for a moment. “Your hair!” 

“Oh,” Stanley said, bringing a hand up to the curls. “It was too long,” He explained lamely. 

“It- it suits you,” His mother stammered out. She blinked and shook her head. “Uh, I have some ice cream... if you.. want any,” She said, eyeballing his hair nervously. 

“Sure,” He said with a soft smile. “Just let me get dressed.”

“Oh- of course,” She said, looking relieved. “Of course.” She smiled, but it was fake, and Stan’s heart broke just a little. 

“Okay,” He said, then he shut the door in her face and finally let himself cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was.. much longer than the other ones. Expect the others to be of similar size. This is gonna be a monster.


	4. With A Little Help From My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No, I get by with a little help from my friends_
> 
>  
> 
> _I get high with a little help from my friends_

_2.56pm, June 16th, 2011 - The Barrens_

_"Holy shit, what happened to you?" The boy in the river looked up sharply at Richie's words. He clutched his stomach and shook his head. Richie rushed out of the thicket of trees, his gaze landing on the ground, where Eddie was curled, wheezing heavily._

__

__

_"B-b-bowers," Bill said, looking up at Richie. "Guh-gave Eddie a bloody nose and then juh-just ran off. He looked from Richie to the boy in the river, oblivious to Jessica, hidden in the shadows. "Kuh-Can you two s-stay here wuh-with him while I get his asthma muh-medicine?"_

__

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_"'Course, Big Bill," Richie said, crouching next to Eddie. "I'd do anything for my Spaghetti."_

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_Bill smiled gratefully, hopping onto his bike. "Hi-yo, Silver! Away!" He cried, pumping his fist into the air as he pedaled away from the barrens._

__

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_Eddie scowled at Richie as he sat up, pinching his nose. "Don't call me that, Rich. You know I hate it."_

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_"I can't help it- you're too cute, cute, CUTE," Richie gushed, reaching out and pinching Eddie's cheek._

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_Eddie slapped his hand away. "Get off me," he grumbled._

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_Jessica quietly emerged from the thicket and into the clearing, making her way to the boy who was still sitting in the river. "You look pretty bad," She told him. "Do you need some help?"_

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_"I'm fine," The boy said, his face reddening under the attention. "Bowers just scratched me up a little." He turned to Richie and Eddie, looking guilty. "I probably led him right to you guys. Sorry,"_

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_"It's no problem, good sir!" Richie said in a phony british accent. "Eds here is quite well!"_

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_"Hey, Eddie," Jessica said quietly, cutting the short boy off mid-verbal assault of Richie. "D'you think that you have anything in your fanny pack to help him?"_

__

__

_The boy finally climbed out of the river, and Jessica winced. His shit was soaked, clinging to his body in a way that couldn't have been comfortable. It was also soaked in mud and blood._

__

__

_It wasn't a pretty sight._

__

__

_Eddie scampered over to him, lifting the shirt slightly to peer at the wound. "He really got you bad, didn't he?"_

__

__

_Ben nodded and looked away in embarrassment while Eddie rummaged around in his fanny pack. He pulled out some wet wipes and a large bandage, and set at cleaning the wound. "Does he always stutter like that?" Ben asked, and they didn't need to know who he was referring to._

__

__

_"Yep," Richie said, popping the 'p'. "It got a lot worse after his brother kicked the bucket, though."_

__

__

_The boy looked back at him in alarm. "His brother died?"_

__

__

_"Yeah, he was one of the missing kids," Eddie said, throwing the used wet wipes aside and pressing the bandage over the wound._

__

__

_The boy hastily pulled his shirt back down over his large stomach, the material already dry from the summer heat. "_ Was?" 

_"They found him," Eddie said quietly._

__

__

_"Yeah. In a ditch, all covered in worms and maggots and missing an arm," Richie said bluntly. The boy looked taken aback, and Richie continued. "We only told you so you wouldn't bring it up, though, so don't tell him."_

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_"I won't," the boy said._

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_"I'm b-buh-back!" Bill rode into the clearing and hopped off his bike, holding the inhaler up like a trophy._

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_"Thanks," Eddie said, triggering it down his throat._

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_"Wow, he's really got it bad, huh?" The boy asked._

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_"Yeah," Bill responded. "Thanks for sticking around. My name is Bill, and this is Eh-Eh-Eh-"_

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_"Eddie," Eddie finished with a roll of his eyes. "I hate it when you stutter my name, Bill, you sound like Elmer Fudd."_

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__

_"But Elmer Fudd has a lisp, not a stutter," the boy argued._

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_"Yeah, whatever," Eddie said dismissively._

__

__

_"I'm Ben," They boy said. "Ben Hanscom."_

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__

_"Richie Tozier's the name, and Voices are my game," Richie said, pumping Ben's hand up and down violently._

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_"I'm J-" That sense of wrongness filled Jessica, and she stumbled over the name. "Jessica."_

__

__

_"Geez, what are ya, Stuttering Bill?" Richie teased._

__

__

_"Beep-beep, Richie," Jessica said, rolling her eyes, and they all laughed, and for just a moment- a single moment- all was well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flashback #2


	5. Everything Has Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _All I know is a simple name_  
>   
> 
> _And everything has changed_

  _6.45am, March 24th, 2018 - Derry High Parking Lot_

 

Stanley sat in his car. He'd been parked in his spot for the past 15 minutes, simply staring at the leather grips of the steering wheel, wondering how he was going to face his friends now that he knew. 

 

Now that he finally knew what was wrong. 

 

Eddie, Richie, and Bev would show up soon, the trio piling out of Richie's truck and making a beeline for the dumpsters, where Richie and Bev would smoke and Eddie would lecture them until Richie offered him one, then he would glare and huff before accepting, because Eddie would do anything to piss off his mother. 

 

As if his thoughts had summoned them, Richie pulled into the spot next to Stan's, slamming his hand down on the horn and causing Stanley to jump. 

 

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" Richie cried as Bev and Eddie hopped out of his car. 

 

"Beep-beep, Rich," Stanley responded, ruffling his newly short curls. He climbed out of his car, following Richie over to the dumpsters- as predicted. 

 

Richie and Beverly almost immediately drew out their cigarettes and Eddie grumbled under is breath about cancer- again, predictably.

 

Beverly titled her head back and exhaled a ring of smoke. "So," She said, grinning cheekily at Stanley. "What'cha thinkin' about?" 

 

Stan's brow furrowed. "Nothing." 

 

"Don't lie to me, Jess," She chided. "You've got your thinking face on." She rapped on the top of Stanley's head. "What's going on in that noggin of yours?"

 

Richie burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, did you just say noggin?" 

 

"Yeah, so what?" Beverly said defensively. 

 

"Nothing, dad," Richie said, chuckling. 

 

Bev rolled her eyes. "Stop it." 

 

"Why don't you make me?" He asked, eyes glinting mischievously. 

 

Bev leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Richie startled, temporarily silenced. 

 

"Thank God," Stanley joked. "The Trashmouth is finally silent." 

 

"I thought you were a Jew," Richie shot back, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. 

 

Stanley rolled his eyes. "It wasn't funny the first time, it's not funny now," He said, straightening the collar of his shirt. 

 

"Micyle! Big Bill!" Richie greeted, looking over Stanley's head. Stan twisted around to look at Mike and Bill as they strolled over, Mike with an arm slung around Bill's shoulder and laughing. 

 

The way his arm lingered a second longer than necessary didn't go unnoticed by Stan, and neither did Bill's small, adoring smile. A small twinge of jealousy tugged at his heart, but he wasn't sure who he was jealous over. Maybe he was just jealous they had something while he was stuck alone, seemingly the only one without love in the Losers' Club. 

 

"Hey, Juh-Jess," Bill said, completely ignoring Richie. "Nice haircut." 

 

Stanley felt a warm heat tingle through his body and he blushed, looking down at his toes. "Thanks," He said bashfully. 

 

"I like it," Mike added, affectionately ruffling Stan's hair. His blush only deepened, and Stan ducked away. 

 

"Ben!" Beverly's sharp voice cut through the moment, and all heads swiveled to look at her. She had her phone sandwiched between her shoulder and her ear, and she used her hands to light a new cigarette. She passed it to Mike, who took a drag and passed it to Bill. "Where are you?" She asked, shifting the phone to her hand and pouting a little. Her emerald green eyes widened, and an acrylic-nailed hand flew to cover her mouth. "Oh my god, are you okay?" She asked, the hand dropping to grip Stan's bicep.

 

The mood changed instantly. The cigarette was passed to Eddie as everyone leaned closer to Bev, worry vibrating through the sextuplet. 

 

"Oh, thank god," Beverly said, her hand falling away from Stan's arm. His shoulders relaxed and his head titled down as he leaned back away, accepting the cigarette from Eddie and drawing on it. "Okay. See you then. Love you, too." She lowered her phone, hands shaking, and tucked it in her back pocket, and silently wrapped her arms around Bill in an embrace, burying her face in his neck. 

 

There were a few moments of tense silence, Bill exchanging glances with each of the Losers before gently pulling away and looking Bev in the eyes. "Wuh-What happened, Bev?" He asked, his voice gentle. 

 

Beverly swallowed, keeping her gaze on the ground as she relayed the information. "Ben got in a car crash," She said. 

 

" _Shit_ ," Richie swore under his breath. 

 

Eddie silently took the cigarette from Stanley. He didn't complain. 

 

"He's f-fine, but Big Mama's ruined." Her voice trembled slightly. "She'll be in the shop for about a month, the mechanics say. Ben should be back at school tomorrow."

 

"Thank god," Stanley breathed, and they all melted into a group hug, trembling in relief. 

 

It was going to be a long day.

 

_5.45pm, March 24th, 2019 - Ben’s House_

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Stan spoke as he entered Ben’s bedroom. He dropped his backpack on the end of Ben’s bed and perched next to it, concern written in his features. 

 

“I’m fine, Jess.” Ben pointed his pen at Stan and looked at him sternly. Stan saw the words in his gaze, even if Ben didn’t voice them. Don’t ask again. “Just a little shaken up, is all.” He turned towards his laptop screen, and Stan got out his textbook and notebook, with every intent to write. But as he copied down from the notebook, his gaze  kept flickering up to the back of Ben’s head, curiousity burning deep in his chest. “What happened?” He asked finally, curiosity winning out over his reason. 

 

Ben glanced over at Stan, his gaze sharp and curious. “You changed you hair,” He said. “I like it.” He turned away again, dodging the question entirely. 

 

Stan pursed his lips. Not one to give up, he tried again. “How did the crash happen?” 

 

Ben turned around fully in his seat this time, genuine confusion displayed across his face. “Bev didn’t tell you?” 

 

“No,” Stan said, putting the textbook aside and leaning a little closer. 

 

“Well, I was turning,” Ben explained, “and this guy in a huge black truck blew right through his stop sign and T-boned me.” 

 

“Bet he has a small dick,” Stan said, and Ben looked at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter. 

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Ben agreed, grin wide and happy. “Anyway, it turns out he was on his phone the whole time.” Ben rubbed the back of his head, avoiding eye contact. “I’m fine, but I had to wait for three hours for the police to figure everything out. It was so horribly long.” He sighed, an annoyed look flashing across his face. “But I’m fine. Really.” 

 

“Wouldn’t you rather be with Bev, you know-” Stan made a vague gesture. “-celebrating life and shit than doing this?” 

 

Ben smirked, amusement dancing in his pure blue eyes. “Are you just trying to avoid work?” 

 

“What? No!” Stan said defensively. “I’m just worried about you, is all.” 

 

“Sure.” Ben rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer screen, typing again. 

 

“You didn’t answer the question,” Stan pointed out.

 

Ben sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “Of course I would,” He said, voice soft and wistful. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?” 

 

Looking down at the face of Hitler displayed on his textbook, Stan had to agree.

 

_12.45pm, March 25th, 2018 - Mike’s Farm_

 

“Are you okay?” The three words were enough to make Stan’s heart flutter and shoulders tense. He glanced over at Mike, anxiety gripping his heart. Mike’s head was tilted like a curious dog’s, the small smile on his lips concerned and genuine. 

 

Stan turned back to the ewe in front of him, threading his fingers through her wool. “I’m fine,” He said causally. 

 

“Jessica,” Mike chided, and the name sent a dark chill through Stan, from the top of his head down through his toes, where it tingled uncomfortably. 

 

Stan swallowed. “What?” The side of his face burned with the intensity of Mike’s gaze. Neither said anything for a few moments. A lamb wandered up and headbutted Mike’s leg, and he turned his gaze to the little thing. 

 

“Do you want a plant?” He asked as he scooped up the lamb. 

 

Stan frowned as his ewe wandered away to graze, turning towards Mike. “What?” 

 

Mike scratched the lamb’s chin and cooed before responding. “Do you want a plant?” He repeated. He gazed at Stan for a moment before adding, “They’re good for your mental health. Taking care of something distracts you from focusing on yourself.” He put down the lamb and patted it’s head once. It let out a ‘baaa’ and scampered off after it’s mother. 

 

“Um, sure,” Stan said, and Mike’s bright grin was definitely worth it. 

 

Entering Mike’s room was less like going inside and more like entering a different area of the outdoors. Bill had painted his walls a light blue with a gentle landscape scene. His ceiling was the same blue color, and even had sun rays surrounding the light fixture. His mattress was on a wooden pallet on the floor, the sheets emblazoned with brightly colored sunflowers. Mike kept his windows propped open, allowing fresh sunlight and clean air to flow through the room, but the most damning detail was the plants covering every god damn surface. He had bushy plants in clay pots, flower bouquets in vases, air plants hanging from the ceiling, succulents overflowing from bowls. It looked almost like a jungle in there. 

 

Mike hummed quietly and handed Stanley a small fern in a metal pot. “There,” he said softly. “This should help you with... whatever you’re dealing with.” 

 

“Thank you,” Stan said, and there was a pause, like Mike expected him to say more. Stan stood in awkward silence for a moment, holding the fern and wondering what to say before Mike spoke. 

 

“What are you dealing with?” He asked gently. “I don’t want you to have to share if you’re not ready, but...” he laid a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “You can trust me.” 

 

To Stan’s shock and horror, he began to cry, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he sniveled pathetically. 

 

“Hey,” Mike said gently, taking the plant and setting it aside so he could wrap his strong, warm arms around Stan. “It’s okay.”

 

But he didn’t understand. 

 

_6.54pm, March 25th, 2018 - Stanley’s Bedroom_

 

Stan loved his sleepovers with Eddie. During the evening, they'd laugh and chat for hours before their conversations would taper off and they'd sit in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's company. 

 

“I think I’m in love." Eddie was sitting on his bed, legs swinging in the air because he was still too short for his feet to reach the ground.

 

Stan looked up sharply from where he was watering his fern. “What?” He asked, alarmed. “With who?” 

 

Eddie looked up at Stanley through his eyelashes, biting his lip nervously. “Can you keep a secret?” He asked, shifting closer to him. 

 

“Of course,” Stanley said, setting his watering can aside and sitting on the bed next to Eddie. 

 

“I’m gay,” Eddie whispered, and Stanley stilled. 

 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

 

“I’m gay,” Eddie said, louder. “I like boys. I want to kiss a boy. I want to marry a boy. I want to buy a house with a boy!” He became louder and more forceful with each word, leaping to his feet, determination glinting in his eyes. 

 

Stan opened his mouth to say something-anything- when Eddie began to cry. “Eddie,” Stan said softly. “Oh, Eddie, that’s okay.” He stood and wrapped Eddie in a hug, attempting to communicate through body language the way Bill seemed to with such ease. “It’s okay,” He repeated, and he held Eddie until the gasping sobs faded to faint wheezing. 

 

Eddie fumbled with his fanny pack for a moment, pulled his inhaler out and took a long draw, then gave Stan a watery smile. 

 

“So,” Stan said after several moments of awkward silence. “Who are you in love with?” 

 

Eddie gave Stan a sad look. “Richie,” He said quietly.

 

Stan’s eyebrows shot up. “Richie?” He asked incredulously. The two boys were like opposites; where Eddie was tidy and germaphobic, Richie was messy and had a penchant for eating things off of the ground. Where Eddie had never expressed any interest in girls, Richie had supposedly lost his virginity at the age of thirteen to Greta Bowie. “Trashmouth Tozier?” He asked again.

 

Eddie sniffled. A thought began to tug at the corners of Stan's mind. “I know it’s dumb,” Eddie said miserably. “He’s probably straight.” 

 

Stan frowned, his mind running through Richie’s interactions with Eddie. “You never know,” He argued. 

 

“Yeah, right,” Eddie said, looking at his toes. “Don’t get my hopes up.” 

 

There was a beat of thoughtful silence. “When are you going to tell the others that you’re...” the  _gay_ went unsaid, hanging between them with a tense energy. 

 

“I don’t know, Jessica,” Eddie fretted. “I’m just so scared.” 

 

Stanley smiled sadly. “I understand.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW THESE ALL CAME OUT IN LIKE 2 DAYS 
> 
> BUT
> 
> I PROBABLY WON'T HAVE ANOTHER ONE UP FOR LIKE A WEEK 
> 
> SORRY
> 
> EDIT: I FORGOT TO TITLE IT AND NOW I WANNA DIE


	6. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love_
> 
> __Not knowing what it was__

_11.35am, July 26th, 2011 - The Barrens_

 

_Jessica arrived before any of the others did, just like always. Bill had called her mom and told her to meet the rest of the Losers down there, because he had someone for them to meet._

 

_She scuffed the toes of her pristine sketchers against the ground, watching the skies while she waited. The early morning chill had burned off already, and she was sweltering in her t-shirt and shorts. She didn't want to wait long before splashing in the river._

 

_"Hi-yo, Silver! Away!" Bill's strong and sure voice echoed across the Barrens, and Jessica turned to see him riding down the hill with someone riding double, their flaming red hair streaming behind them in the wind. Jealousy twinged in her heart when she realized that it was a girl, her arms looped around Bill's waist as she laughed delightedly, the clear sound filling the air._

 

_The bike came to a stop and Bill kicked the stand into place, letting the girl slide off before he did._

 

_Jessica recognized the girl from somewhere, her red hair and dancing green eyes carrying a warm sense of familiarity. She wore overalls over her clothes, a key swinging around her neck. "Hi," The girl greeted, sticking out her freckled-covered hand to shake. "I'm Beverly, but you can call me Bev."_

 

_Jessica shook it. Beverly's fingers were calloused, and her hand was small. As she looked at Bev, she noticed a large bruise on the side of her head and frowned a little. "I'm Jess," She said, quickly dropping her hand._

 

_"Nice to meetcha, Jess! Billy here wouldn't stop talking about you," She said teasingly, her eyes dancing as she looked at Bill._

 

_"Really?" Jessica squeaked, looking at Bill._

 

_The stuttering boy blushed furiously. "Th-that's eh-exaggerating it, Buh-Bevvie," He said. "I duh-didn't t-talk about her that m-much."_

 

_"Oh, whatever, ya big sap," Beverly said, rolling her eyes. "He was right, anyway."_

 

_"Right about what?" Jessica's eyebrows drew together as she looked from Beverly to Bill._

 

_"You really are amazing."_


	7. Rollercoaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Now come a little closer_
> 
>  
> 
> _There was something I could tell ya_

_4.45pm, March 30th, 2018 - Richie’s House_

 

"Hey, Jessie bo bessie!" Richie's loud greeting rang in Stanley's ears the second he stepped in the front door.

 

Stan rolled his eyes affectionately. "Hi, Rich." He followed Richie's voice into the kitchen, where he and Beverly sat on the counter, twin grins on their faces. 

 

Richie swung himself off the counter and slung his arm around Stanley's shoulders. "So, what were you doing?"

 

"Eddie's mom," Stan responded easily. Beverly shrieked with laughter as Richie gasped and thumped a hand onto his chest. 

 

"Not my sweet Mrs. K!" He howled, staring at the ceiling. "Why, god, why?" 

 

Stanley ignored his dramatics entirely, instead choosing to take in the mess of the kitchen. Eggshells littered the counter, there was flour on the ceiling and Beverly was happily eating batter off a spatula. "What the fuck did you guys do to this place?" 

 

"That's what Maggie said, too," Beverly said, swinging her legs as she finished the last of the batter. 

 

"We're making cookies," Richie told him. 

 

As half-baked cookie fell from the ceiling, landing on the floor with a wet splat.  Stan raised an eyebrow at the pair. 

 

Beverly just shrugged, tossing her spatula into the sink. 

 

"Alright, I'm fixing this," Stan announced. “Prepare yourselves." 

 

"Jessie to the rescue!" Beverly cheered with a wink. Stan rolled his eyes. 

 

A few hours and a shit ton of flour later, Stan set a steaming tray of cookies down on the counter. "Done," He said happily. 

 

"All we needed was a woman's touch," Richie said with a cheeky wink. 

 

And even thought Stan knew Richie didn't know - _he couldn't know_ \- Stan was still offended, filled with extreme, hot indignation. "You had Bev," He pointed out through gritted teeth. 

 

"Yeah, but she's barely a girl," Richie said, rolling his eyes. "One of the guys."

 

"And I'm not?" The anger swelled, and Stanley fought with it, pushing it down so he wouldn't explode. 

 

"Nah," Richie said dismissively. "You got too big tits!" 

 

There was more to the joke, but Stan didn't hear it, his vision going temporarily white with hurt and anger. "Beep beep, asshole," He ground out. Richie shut up immideately, his gaze becoming concerned. 

 

"Jess?"

 

"I have to go. Enjoy your cookies." Stan rushed away and out the door, hot tears streaming down his face. 

 

_I wore my binder today._  

 

_7.00pm, March 30th, 2018 - Stanley's Bedroom_

 

Stanley rushed into his house, which was blessedly empty. A note on the kitchen table read _‘Jessica- your father and I are having a little date night. There’s chicken in the fridge if you haven’t eaten already. Love you, Mom.’_

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He set the note back down on the table and rushed down the stairs, stumbling into his room and flinging himself onto his bed, gasping for air.

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He began to shake, and he _knew_ he should be breathing, he _knew_ that, but he just couldn’t, his airway restricted by insensitive words spoken carelessly under bright kitchen lights. He trembled all over and he’d never felt more disgusted in his life, digging his hands into his hair and scraping at his scalp with his blunt fingernails as he curled into the fetal position, struggling for air in great heaving gasps that tore through the overwhelming silence of his bedroom.

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He let out a broken sob, tears running down his cheeks and and onto his stress-bitten lips. Stan pressed his eyes into his knees, the tears staining the fabric there. Another sob wracked his body and his mind danced from one fragmented thought to the other, never lingering long enough to be coherent but enough to send him spiraling, fear and pain and disgust swirling in his stomach. 

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_Dirty. Ugly. Broken._ He sobbed harder, nails moving to his arms and digging into the skin, tearing into the body that dared betray him by being born female. Pressure built until he felt he was going to burst, but no amount of scratching and sobbing let it free, he couldn’t get it out. 

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Slowly, he straightened, unraveling his spine, starfishing out over the covers of his bed, breathing labored and tears drying on his cheeks. 

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He pulled the sleeves of his shirt over his palms and dragged them across his eyes, logic attempting to crawl it’s way into the shell of his brain. 

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_You need to talk to someone._ The voice sounded rather like Beverly, and he let out a weak chuckle. Even when she wasn’t there she was mothering him. 

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_You can’t keep this in,_ the Beverly-voice insisted. _It’s not healthy._

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_Healthy._ Stan hadn’t considered his own health in a long time, exhausting himself putting up a façade of normalcy while his world was falling apart. His stomach growled, reminding him that he had yet to eat that day - in fact, he could count on his hand the amount of times he’d eaten in the last week. 

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_Not healthy,_ his inner Bev whispered again. Enough logic made it’s way into his brain that he was aware enough to pick up his phone, which had been discarded on his nightstand, and switch it on. 

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**6 missed calls**

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**42 unread messages**

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Stan didn’t need to look at the contacts to know who sent it- each Loser had attempted calling him and texting him both in the group chat and privately, which was practically a tradition among them after a fight.

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He ignored them for now, opening his messages with Bill. 

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**Big Bill:** Are you okay? 

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**Big Bill:** Jess? 

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**Jess:**  Can I come over? 

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**Big Bill:** Now? 

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Heart warmed by Bill’s instant response, Stan glanced at the time. 7.30pm.

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**Jess:** Yes. 

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**Big Bill:** Okay. Yes. 

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**Jess:** On my way. 

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**Big Bill:** See you soon. 

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Very aware of the fact his parents wouldn’t be in to check on him until 9, Stanley slid his phone in his back pocket and climbed out of his window, incredibly thankful his bedroom was on the first floor. He landed with a thump in the wet grass and climbed onto his bike, riding to the one person that mattered in that moment. 

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_7.40pm, March 30th, 2018 - Bill’s House_

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He arrived at Bill’s house with the anger still itching under his skin, pressure building beneath his chest with the words _woman's touch_ reverberating in his skull. He needed to get it out, he needed to tell someone, he needed to get this pressure off his chest. 

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He needed Bill.

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**Big Bill:**!Just knock when you get here. My parents will let you in. 

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The stark reminder that Bill’s parents no longer gave a shit about him made something tug at Stan’s heart, and he pocketed his phone again and knocked twice, clear and concise.

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Sharon Denbrough opened the door. Her empty gaze was fixed somewhere just beyond Stan and she stepped aside, letting him in with no greeting or even any acknowledgement that he was there. 

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Stan smiled at her and uttered a quiet thanks, stepping inside. 

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She didn’t even blink, simply closing the door and moving almost robotically to the living room. 

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Stan kept his gaze fixed on his toes as he scrambled up the steps to Bill’s bedroom, pausing to knock on that door, too.

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“Come in,” Bill’s distracted voice floated through the wood, and Stanley made his way inside, careful to shut the door behind him. 

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Bill looked up and smiled, going to close his journal, but Stan shook his head. “Don’t stop on my account,” He said, voice timid and a little hoarse from crying.

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“Are you sh-sh-” Bill looked concerned as he stumbled his way through the word, and Stan realized he must look awful, hair a mess, skin scratched and eyes raw from crying. 

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“Yeah,” He said, saving Bill from finishing the word.

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Bill shrugged. “Oh-okay, then.” Stan smiled as he sat on Bill’s bed. This was the reason he chose to come to Bill and not one of the other losers- he never poked and prodded, simply accepting the answers Stan gave and waiting for him to be ready to say more. 

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They sat for a few moments in a comfortable silence, the faint music from Bill’s apple earbuds reaching Stan’s ears. 

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“I need to tell you something,” Stan breathed.

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Bill looked up from his journal. “What is it?” He asked, brushing a strand of auburn hair away from his crystal blue gaze with ink-smudged fingers.  

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Stan opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. He closed it and tried again. “I’m... not... a girl,” He said. 

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Bill’s brow furrowed, and he removed the earbud from his left ear and turned fully towards Stanley. “Juh-Jess?” 

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“I’m not...  _her,_ ” Stanley said, and he began to cry.  _Stop, stop it, no,_  he mentally screamed. But the tears continued to fall, even as Bill wrapped his arms around Stan and pulled him in to a hug, remaining there as Stan nestled his face into Bill’s shoulder and as the room began to encase itself in shadows. If he was at anyone else’s house, now would be the time their parents would storm into the room, wreathed in pride and virtue, and order Stanley out, but Bill’s parents always seemed to forget the had an older child, and tonight it played in their favor. 

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When the tears finally stopped flowing, Stanley lifted his head off of Bill’s now-soaking shoulder, turning his face away and wiping his cheeks. 

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“So you’re... t-t-transgender?” Bill asked. Hearing the word aloud made Stan’s throat swell shut and threatened to bring him to tears again. 

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Stanley drew in a shaky breath. “Yeah.” 

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Bill nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Is there anything I sh-should call you?” He asked gently.

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Stan gasped through a sob. “St-stanley.”

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“Stanley,” Bill said, testing the name on his lips. He smiled. “I luh-like it. It suits you.” 

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Stanley began to giggle through his tears, and he pulled Bill back into a hug, smiling agaisnt the porcelain skin of Bill’s smooth throat. “Thank you,” He whispered. 

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“It’s nuh-no problem, St-Stan,” Bill said. “No problem at all.” 


	8. Bust A Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This here's a tale for all the fellas_
> 
> __
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> _Try to do what the ladies tell us__  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the song choice was solely for the movie nod. fight me.

_1.23pm, July 4th, 2013 - The Barrens_

_Jessica sat on the smooth stones by the quarry waters, the summer heat warming the auburn curls tumbling down her back. She watched with a content smile as Eddie and Bev struggled in an intense chicken fight, perched on Richie and Bill’s shoulders, respectively. Ben sat a few feet away, diligently scrawling something on a postcard._

_Although neither knew it, both strayed from the water for similar reasons- a deep sense of discomfort with their own bodies kept them from enjoying being in such an unclothed state._

_Jessica’s cheeks warmed as Mike emerged from the water, the sunlight glinting off of his ebony skin._

_Ben tapped her shoulder, and she turned to look at him, dark brown eyes wide and questioning. “Do you know what Bev’s address is?” He asked hopefully._

_“Yeah,” Jessica said, nodding. “D’you have a marker?”_

_“Uh, sure,” Ben said. He pulled a black sharpie from his sweater pocket and handed it to Jessica._

_“Don’t you get hot in those sweaters?” Jessica asked, brows drawing together in concern._

_A pink flush spread across Ben’s pudgy cheeks. “Can I just have Bev’s address, please?”_

_Jessica shrugged, as if to say ‘you’re the one that’s gonna be hot,’ and rolled up the sleeve of his arm, scrawling the address onto the flesh of his arm in childish print. “Just don’t visit,” She warned him. “Bevvie’s Dad doesn’t like it when she hangs out with boys.”_

_“Why not?” Ben asked, tilting his head._

_Jessica turned back to the quarry, watching the way Bev looked at Bill with quiet adoration as he pushed Mike into the water, cheering in triumph. “He just worries,” She told him. “He just worries an awful lot.”_


	9. I'm Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm coming out_
> 
> __I want the world to know_ _
> 
> ___I've got to let it show_ _ _

_4.17pm, March 31st, 2018 - Ben's House_

 

"I- I have something I need to say." Ben looked up from his computer with a frustrated sigh, running his fingers through his hair. 

 

"This better be good, Jess. Our project is due on the 7th, and we're nowhere close to done."

 

Stan felt a sharp sting in his chest and he almost took it back, but he squeezed his eyes shut and forced the words out. "I'm transgender." He kept his eyes closed as he wrung his hands in his lap, anxiety eating away at his brain. 

 

"Oh?" Ben's tone did a total 180, voice soft and concerned. 

 

Stan cracked his eyes open to see Ben looking at him with his lips curved in a gentle smile. "That's okay," Ben said. "You're still you." 

 

Stan let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, his eyes watering a little. "Thank you," He said, sniffling. "I- I've been going as Stanley now, or Stan, I guess, even if there was nobody to tell." 

 

"Am I the only person you've come out to?" Ben's brow furrowed, as if he couldn't believe that someone would put that much trust into him.

 

Stan hesitated a moment. "No," He admitted. "I told Bill yesterday." He looked back down at his hands, nervously bouncing his leg.

 

"That's okay, Stanley," Ben said. There was a long pause that wasn't quite awkward but wasn't quite comfortable. It vibrated with a strange energy, and it was new. 

 

"Now," Ben said, straightening and turning back to the computer. "Just 'cause you're a dude doesn't mean you get out of work. Chop chop!" He winked at Stan, who laughed gratefully. 

 

"Right," He said, picking his pen up. "Let's finish this." 

 

_7.34pm, March 31st, 2018 - Main St._

 

Stan walked alongside Mike down Main St., the chivalrous younger boy insisting upon walking her home.

 

The sun had gone down just enough now that Stan felt a chill- or maybe that was the knowledge of what he was about to do. He was about to knock someone's world completely off it's axis for the third time in 24 hours, and although the other two had been accepting and each time became a little easier, Stanley was still extremely anxious. 

 

He shoved his hands in his back pockets and took a deep breath. "Mike?"

 

"That's my name, don't wear it out." Mike chuckled at his own joke and Stan laughed breathlessly, chewing his lip nervously. 

 

"Um- I have something I need to tell you," Stan said. The pair slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, a passing cars' wind ruffling Stan's curls. 

  
"What is it?" Mike asked kindly. His smile was warm and sweet, and it put Stan at ease.

  
"I'm- um, I'm transgender," He said, the word clunky and alien as it rolled off his tongue. "I'm a guy."

 

"Oh," Mike said, smiling softly. "Is that all? I was worried."

 

Stan laughed, warmth spreading through his chest outwards, making his toes tingle. 

 

Mike laughed too, deep and rumbling. "So if you're not Jessica, what should I call you?" They began to walk again, deep confession over. 

 

"Stanley," Stan responded.

 

"Well, hello, Stanley," Mike said, and it brought warmth to Stan's face. 

 

"I haven't- um, I haven't really told anyone, not even my parents, so you'll have to call me Jessica most places."

 

"That's okay." Mike came to a stop. "We're here." 

 

Stan stopped as well. "So we are." He shuffled nervously. "Um. Goodbye, then." 

 

Mike smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Stan's cheek. "Goodbye," He said in an equally soft voice, and then he walked away, back towards his farm. 

 

Stan reached up and pressed two fingers to where Mike had put his mouth, a smile ghosting across his lips. "Bye," He whispered. The syllable was caught on the wind and it floated away. 

 

_9.54pm, March 31st, 2018 - Stan + Bill's texts_

 

**Stan:**  I think I'm going to tell the others tomorrow

 

**Big Bill:**  That's a big step, Stan. 

 

**Stan:**  I know. 

 

**Stan:**  Today I told Ben and Mike. 

 

**Big Bill:**  They react okay?

 

**Big Bill:**  or do I need to beat them up?

 

**Stan:**  Yeah, they're fine

 

**Stan:**  I'm ready to tell the others

 

**Big Bill:** okay... 

 

**Big Bill:**  no matter what, I support you

 

**Stan:** Thanks, Bill.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SHORT AND LONG-AWAITED I'M SORRY


	10. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When I was young I would look in the mirror_
> 
>  
> 
> _Didn’t know it then but now it couldn’t be clearer_

  _12:30pm, November 6th, 2009 - Jessica's House_

 

_It was a bright and sunny day when Jessica's mother sat down for "a talk"._

_Jessica was restless, shifting in her sear and eyes darting to the window every few seconds. It wasn't often sunny during the autumn in Derry, and she wanted to play in the leaves with Richie._

_"Jessica? Are you listening?" Jessica tore her gaze from the image of Richie rolling in the leaves with Eddie and fixed it on her mother._

_"Do you remember Miss Scarlett?" She asked._

_Jessica perked up. Miss Scarlet had been her kindergarden teacher, and she loved her lots. "Yeah!"_

_"Well... she's gone now, sweetie," Mrs. Uris said, watching Jessica's expression carefully for her reaction._

_Jessica's brow furrowed and she frowned. "Gone?"_

_Her mother sighed, shaking her head. "She's dead, Jessica."_

_Tears pricked in Jessica's eyes- she knew what that word meant, had learned it earlier that year when Rocky the pitbull had passed away. "Why?" She asked, lip trembling._

_Andrea sighed again, rubbing her face in her hands. "She was- very sad, Jessie. Sad because lots of people didn't like her."_

_Jessica rubbed her eyes. "Why?" She asked again. "She was so nice."_

_Her mother smiled and nodded. "She was, wasn't she? People didn't like her... people didn't like her because she wasn't a girl when she was born."_

 

_Jessica was even more confused, now. "What? How can you be born a boy and turn into a girl?"_

 

_"Some people are born girls, but are really boys inside," her mother explained. "And some people- like Miss Scarlett- were born boys but are really girls inside."_

 

_"Oh," Jessica said. Her still-impressionable mind easily accepted this as concrete fact. "If Miss Scarlett was really a girl, then how come people hated her?"_

 

_"Because they think it doesn't matter what's inside," Andrea said. "They think all that matters is what you're born as."_

 

_"That's stupid," Jessica decided._

 

_Her mother smiled. "I think so, too."_

 

_A thought occurred to Jessica, and she was sad again. "Is Miss Scarlett happy now?" She asked._

 

_"I hope so," her mother whispered._

 

_Jessica went to sleep that night thinking of boys who were really girls and girls who were really boys._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 in one day? shocker! You may get another one soon, we'll see!


	11. Born This Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No matter gay, straight, or bi_
> 
> __Lesbian, transgendered life_ _
> 
> ___I'm on the right track, baby_ _ _
> 
> ____I was born to survive_ _ _ _

_9.12am, April 1st, 2018 - The Barrens_

Stanley was trembling as he ducked into the small clearing. The date hadn't occurred to him until just then, as he saw the Losers assembled, Richie with his arm slung around Eddie and head titled back in laughter. Stanley's eyes focused on a pink lip mark on his cheek, then drifted down to Eddie, who was dabbing at his candy pink colored lips. 

 

"Jessie!" Richie greeted, dark eyes bright with mirth. He slid his arm off of Eddie and crushed Stanley in a hug, picking him up and spinning him around. After Richie planted him on the ground, Bill walked up and squeezed his hand, smiling reassuringly. From behind him, Mike flashed a thumbs up and Ben mouthed _'Go get 'em.'_

 

"You had something you wanted to tell us?" Beverly asked, getting straight to the point like always. Her gaze dropped to where Bill was clasping his hand, and Stan quickly dropped it, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. 

 

"I..." Stanley trailed off, looking at Bill, Mike, and Ben for support. Bill nodded. "This isn't an April Fool's prank," Stan said hurriedly, looking over the others, his eyes clinging to Richie's especially, wide and desperate.  _Please don't laugh. I don't think I could handle it if you laugh_. "I'm... not... her." Understanding dawned on Richie's face immediately, and he looked a bit guilty. "I..." he looked at the floor, staring at the scuffed toes of his converse. "I'm a boy. I can feel it. I'm not Jessica Uris. That's not.. me." He finally lifted his gaze up to meet the eyes of everyone else, gaze drifting from Eddie to Richie to Bev, then to Bill and Ben and finally Mike. 

 

"How long have you known?" Beverly's gentle voice brought his gaze back to her. 

 

"I think I always have, a little bit," Stan admitted. "I never felt  _right_ as a girl." 

 

Beverly's gaze glazed over a little bit, and Stan knew she was remembering. 

 

_"Do you ever feel... wrong?"_

 

"What's your name?" Eddie asked. Stanley's gaze snapped to him, and he frowned, a bit confused. "Your real one, I mean," He said, quieter. 

 

"Stanley," Stan told him. 

 

"Stanley," Eddie mused, and hearing the name from his lips brought a smile to Stan's face. 

 

There was a discontented hum from Richie. "That's ridiculous." The two words made Stanley's heart drop to his stomach and his eyes widen. His fears all swallowed him at once -  _he hates you he'll never accept you he's gonna out you at school_ - before Richie said, "We can't just go around calling you Stanley all the time. That's boring." 

 

"I also go by Stan," Stanley offered timidly.

 

At the same time, Eddie elbowed him and hissed "Beep-beep!" 

 

"Stan," Richie mused. "Stan, Stan, Stan." He paused for a moment before his face exploded into a shit-eating grin. "Stan the Man!" He surged forward and scooped Stanley in a bear hug. "How goes it, Stan the Man? Good Ol' Stanley? Stanley the Manley!" If possible, his voice got even louder, and he barked out a laugh. "Oh, it's just too perfect."

 

Stan weaseled his way out of Richie's arms, laughing, and smiled at Beverly when she grasped his hand. 

 

"We love you, Stanley," She said softly. "We always will."

 

Stan smiled, squeezing her hand. "I know."

 

_5.43pm, April 2nd, 2018 - Richie's House_

 

"Hey, Stanny!" The nickname sent a little thrill through Stan's body, but outwardly, he rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

 

"Not my fucking name," He shot back, and the routine fell into place with more ease than anything else Stan had done in his life.

 

"Hey, that's my line," Eddie quipped.

 

Richie to laugh delightedly and pinched Eddie's cheek. "You're fucking adorable, Eds," He gushed. 

 

Stan was surprised when Eddie didn't protest, instead blushing and ducking his head. He was even more surprised when Richie leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek that was neither wet nor obnoxious, but sweet and gentle and he loosely linked fingers with Eddie. 

 

"Holy shit," Stan gasped. "Are you-"

 

"Dating," Eddie confirmed with a shy smile, looking at Richie with pure adoration in his eyes. 

 

Stanley let out a loud squeal that was totally out of character, but he couldn't care less- he was in a good mood already - and pressed his hand to his mouth. "I'm so happy for you guys!" 

 

"Thanks," Eddie said shyly. 

 

"Yeah, we were gonna tell you guys yesterday, so we could blow it off as a prank if shit hit the fan- but then everything with you happened, and we didn't want to steal your thunder," Richie explained. 

 

Stanley gasped overdramatically, laying a hand on his chest. "Richard Tozier? Not wanting to be the center of attention? Well, I never!" A wide grin overtoook his face as Richie and Eddie burst into laughter. 

 

"Yowza!" Richie cried, pushing his oversized glasses up his nose. "Stan gets off a good one! Who are you, and what have you done with Stanley Uris?"

 

Stan grinned even wider, and he lifted his shoulder in a one-armed shrug. "I can't help it. Life's finally going good for me, I guess."

 

He shouldn't have fucking said anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaaaay! that's all for a while, I think. Not as long of a break as last time, but still~


	12. Teenagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They're gonna rip up your heads, your inspirations to shreds, another cog in the murder machine._

_1.34pm, July 11th, 2013 - Jackson St._

_"Lookit, Henry, it's the fairy!" Belch Huggin's voice echoed across the small field. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut as Jessica turned to glare at him. The older boy was strutting over, chest puffed out. He grinned wickedly at the pair, viciously proud of the ball he'd just hit._

_It wasn't **that**  impressive, Jessica tried to tell herself, but it really was. That didn't mean he got to pick on Eddie, though. She planted her hands on her hips and summoned her best death glare. "Go away, Belch," She said, her lip trembling in fear. _

  
_Henry smiled, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin. "Did ya say something, girly?" He asked, giving Jessica a firm shove. She let out a cry. "You dress like a boy, Jessie, are you sure you're even a girl?" He shoved her again. "Maybe you're a tranny." He shoved her again._

_She fell backwards, scrambling away with tears in her eyes. "No, no, I'm not!" She insisted. She didn't know what 'tranny' meant, but if Henry said it with such venom, she was going to deny it until the day she died. She could hear Eddie's labored breathing and saw Belch shoving him around. He fell to the sidewalk, hard, and Belch loomed over him with an evil grin._

_"Hey!" All four heads whipped to the newcomer. It was a tall black kid, arms crossed and eyes bright with anger,._

_"Ooh," Henry said. "Black boy to the rescue! You fucking the black boy, Jessie? Is that why he's saving you?" He turned to Eddie, pressing his boot firmly onto the smaller boy's arm._

_"No," Jessie protested, cutting her gaze back over to the boy- but he was gone, bike discarded on the ground._

_Belch let out a barking laugh. "Looks like your fucktoy left you," He snarled._

_"Hey!" The boy had reappeared, this time with an adult behind him. "Scram!"_

_Henry snarled, taking Eddie's wrist and pulling it up sharply. The small boy screamed in pain, and Belch spat on his face- then ran._

_"Damn kids," The adult muttered, wiping his hands on his apron. "You watch out for that Bowers gang, eh?" He instructed the group. Jessica nodded, and Eddie began to giggle._

_The adult retreated into his shop, and the boy ran across the street, dragging his bike alongside him. "Is he okay?" The boy asked, crouching next to Eddie._

_  
Jessica stood, brushing off her khakis. "I don't know."_

_Eddie giggled more. "I think I broke my arm."_

_"What?" Jessica tucked her braid over her shoulder._

_"I think my arm is broken," Eddie repeated._

_  
Jessica looked at the boy's bike. It had a large basket- large enough to hold Eddie, she thought. "I'm Jessica Uris," She said, sticking out her hand. "And this is my friend, Eddie Kaspbrak."_

_The boy rose, shaking her hand awkwardly. "I'm Mike Hanlon."_

_Jessica smiled. "Do you think we can borrow your bike?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M INCREDIBLY LAZY ((plus, I've been working on two rather large wips- look forward to seeing those!))


	13. You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No, but I can't and I don't know/We're just two men as God has made us_

_2.30pm, April 3rd, 2018 - Derry High Parking Lot_

 

 

 

Stanley was minding his own business when it happened. He was cold and alone and he just wanted to go home. 

 

He didn't deserve it. 

 

"Look, it's the tranny!" Bower's voice rang across the parking lot, and Stanley froze. "Yeah, talking to you, Jessica." 

 

"Leave me alone, Bowers." Stan's throat swelled shut as Henry approached, feral grin nearly splitting his face in half. Oh my god who told him how does he know they hate me

 

"Heard you talking to your little faggot friends the other day," Henry said almost casually as he leaned on the back of Stan's car. "Heard you tell them how you weren't a girl," He mocked. 

 

Patrick and Vic approached, shoving each other and grinning when they saw Stan. "Hey there, Stanley," Vic said. Stan's chest heaved. 

 

"How can you be a boy if you don't have a dick?" Henry wondered aloud. 

 

"That isn't how biology works, dyke," Patrick sneered. "It's against the law of nature." 

 

Vic said nothing, simply placing a firm shove on his shoulder. Stan fell easily, hands scraping against the concrete. 

 

"You hear that? It's against the fucking law, dyke," Henry spat, kicking viciously at Stan's side.

 

Stan grasped the bruised ribcage in one hand. "Not what that means, dumbass," He gasped, and Henry grabbed him by the front of the shirt, ripping him back up to a standing position. 

 

"Hey! Lay off her, you sons of bitches!" Beverly's indignant voice startled Henry, and he dropped Stan, who fell back, landing on the concrete so hard his head bounced back up a little. Stan heaved, reassured by Bev's voice, but still terrified. 

 

"Make me, dyke," Henry sneered, whirling on Beverly easily. Vic loomed over Stan with an evil grin, pressing a foot down on Stan's chest and shifting his weight on it, crushing the air from Stan's lungs. 

 

"Oh, fuck you!" Bev's red hair caught Stan's gaze as she faced off against Henry, her hands clenched into angry fists. 

 

"Please do," Henry snapped back. Patrick giggled. 

 

There was a loud thud as Bev's fist connected with Henry's jaw. He reeled back and Vic whirled away from Stan, lifting his foot off of Stan's chest and planting it firmly on the ground. 

 

Stan scrambled to his feet, backing away. His chest throbbed with every breath he took as he watched the standoff.

 

Henry straightened. "I know your friend's little secret, Bevvie," He sneered. "Your little hideout isn't so secret anymore."

 

Bev's gaze flickered to Stan and then away. "I don't know what you're talking about," She said, her voice quivering and throwing her shoulders back. 

 

" _We love you, Stanley,_ " Patrick said, pitching his voice into a wavering falsetto. " _We always will_."

 

Bev swallowed nervously. Visibly. She'd be a terrible actor, Stan thought numbly. "Oh yeah?" Her voice shook even more than before and she shifted, planting her feet. "How long did it take for you to come up with that one? Weeks? Months?" Her fighting stance was laughably unimpressive, her clocking in at 5'4, over half a foot shorter than Henry, who stood at 6'1.

 

The ringleader stared at her for a beat, jaw hanging open, before bursting into side-splitting laughter. "You don't need to keep hiding it from me, Bevvie," He said. "I know all about your little cuntboy friend."

 

It was Beverly's turn to stand there in shock, her eyes darkening with anger. "That's fucking it-" She lunged at Henry like a kitten attacking a bulldog, all claws and teeth. He went down, probably more in shock than anything else. Stan took several steps forward, only for Victor to push him back, and a shout tore through the air. 

 

"Buh-Beverly, no!" Bill came running up, grabbing Bev by her elbows and holding her back. She threw herslef forward, face twisted into an ugly sneer, teeth bared and purple lipstick smudged. Henry scrambled to his feet, face scratched and bleeding, and Patrick shoved him, screaming for him to run. The trio did so, Henry stumbling over his shoelaces while Beverly screamed obscenities, kicking and trashing against Bill's hold. 

 

"That's right, you better run, fuckers! Run before I fucking claw your eyes out! Don't talk about my friends that way! Watch your backs, motherfuckers!" 

 

When the gang was out of sight, Bill let go of Bev, and she thudded to the ground, eyes blazing. "I'll kill them," She spat. 

 

"I know you will, Bev," Bill said, smiling at her. 

 

"God." She looked at Stan. "I'm coming home with you." She then proceeded to climb into Stan's car. He could see her wiping at her lipstick, removing it entirely. 

 

Bill looked at Stan. "What happened?"

 

"Bowers heard," Stan said, and the words brought tears to his eyes. "He- he knows."

 

"Oh, Stan..." Bill watched Stan carefully, and Stan broke into tears, crushing Bill in a hug. 

 

"I just want to be okay," Stan whispered.

 

_7.53pm, April 3rd, 2018 - Stanley's Bedroom_

 

"What color should I do?" Beverly sat on the hardwood flooring of Stan's bedroom, nail polish spread out before her in an array of colors. "You have to decide since my acrylic broke when I was defending your honor."

 

Stan glanced up from his ink-covered legs. "Blue," He said offhandedly before returning to his religious coloring of lines. Beverly said it was a good way to relieve the urge to self-harm when overwhelmed, so he figured he'd try it. The swirls of red and blue calmed him and made him feel at peace.

 

"Okay," Beverly said easily, picking up a dark blue color and splaying her fingers out on her thigh. She began to paint as she spoke. "D'you want to join Bill and I's sleepover tomorrow?"

 

"Where?" Stan asked. 

 

"Bill's."

 

"Yeah, sure. I'll tell my parents." It was less of an issue, these days, where Stan was and why, and it made Stan a little sad but mostly happy.

 

"Okay." Bev peered at her nails. "This is gonna need a second coat." There was a half a heartbeat of silence. "Is it working?" She asked quietly.

 

"Yeah," Stan affirmed, not stopping in his continuous lines.

 

For the rest of the night, they comfortably co-existed, coping in their own quiet ways and trying not to think what Beverly's father would do to her in the morning. 

 

_12.30pm, April 4th, 2018 - Derry Parking Lot_

 

Stan and Eddie were left alone at lunch, the other Losers all either tangled up in detention or homework catch-up, unable to make it out of the clutches of school. 

 

They sat in the bed of Richie's trunk, Stan's half- eaten sandwich set aside and Eddie with a cigarette between his fingers.

 

"I'm trying something new," Was all he had offered upon Stan's questioning gaze, and Stan couldn't summon the energy to press him for more.

 

"I miss Richie," Eddie sighed, looking down at his shoes.

 

Stan made a noncommittal noise, gaze following a seagull as it flew over the parking lot. He didn't miss anyone, not even Mike or Bill. He didn't really feel anything but a little nauseous from the sandwich. 

 

Eddie eyed him, gaze flicking to the sandwich and back. "How you holding up, Stanny?"

 

"Sometimes I don't want to be here anymore." The words dropped unbidden off of his lips, and Stan's eyes widened at his own confession. He cut his gaze over to Eddie, worried.

 

"Don't talk like that, Stan," Eddie said seriously, gaze unwavering. "We'll be here for you."

 

Stan smiled. "Thanks, Eddie."

 

"Anytime, Stan." Eddie exhaled a puff of smoke and sighed, watching it be ripped away with the wind. 

 

 

_10.42pm, April 4th, 2018 - Bill's Living Room_

"You guys want to watch Black Panther?" Beverly suggested, squeezing between two arm chairs and popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth. 

"Sure," Stan said with a shrug.

Bill plopped on the couch next to him. "What else?" He asked sarcastically.

"Hey!" Beverly looked indignant. "Wakanda forever, bitch!"

Bill laughed and Stan smiled tightly. He tried to focus, but Bower's words rang in his skull like the sound of a school bell. 

_"How can you be a boy if you don't have a dick?"_

"You okay, Stanny?" Stan snapped out of his haze, looking up into Bev's concerned green eyes.

"Yeah," He said with a soft smile. 

_12.30am, April 5th, 2018 - Bill’s Kitchen_

The sound of on-screen fighting fills his ears as he stumbles into the kitchen, throat too tight as he searches the cabinets for a glass. 

_"That isn't how biology works, dyke."_

_"We know all about your little cuntboy friend."_

Stan ran his fingers through his hair, struggling to breathe. "I'm a boy," He whispered.

_"Heard you talking to your little faggot friends the other day."_

Bill entered the kitchen. "Stan? You okay?"

"Yeah," Stan lied, eyes wild. "Could you get me some water?"

"Of course." Bill opened the only cabinet Stan had yet to check and filled a glass up with tap water. "anything else?" He asked softly as he handed Stan the cup.

"Nope." Stan smiled, a brittle thing, and sipped his water. 

Bill's soft concerned gaze studied him for a moment. "If you say so." With that he left, leaving Stan alone in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters in one day? What???? (Expect more soon)


	14. To The End

_12.36pm, June 11th, 2015 - The quarry_

 

_“You know that’ll kill you.” Eddie was looking over the edge, eyes wide and hands shaking._

 

_“Maybe I want it to.” The words were out of her mouth faster than she could procees them, and Jessica’s eyes went wide. “I- I didn’t-”_

 

_“Stop being such pussies and **jump!** ” Beverly’s words reached them just before she did, and she flung herself over the edge of the quarry, hanging suspended in the air for a few seconds, long limbs pinwheeling, before she crashed down, the splash of the water a roar in Jessica’s ears. _

 

_“Oh, fuck,” Richie said, “Now I have to do it.”_

_Eddie looked over at him, lip trembling. “Maybe we could do it together?”_

_Richie smiled, wiggling his fingers out at him. Eddie grasped his hand. “One-two-three-!” And then they were gone, too, joining Beverly in the blue waters below._

_Mike looked over at Jess and smiled. “See? It won’t kill you.” He paused, then leaned in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “For luck.”_

_Jessica smiled. “Cooties,” she said softly, and Mike laughed._

_“You don’t believe in that horseshit, do you?” He asked._

_“Nah,” Jessica said, “I’m just messing with you.”_

_“Jessica! Get your ass down here!” Richie’s voice rang out, loud and obnoxious. “C’mon! If Eds can, you can!”_

_She looked over at Mike, and Mike grinned. “He’s right,” he said._

_Jessica took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Geronimo!”_

_The water was cold, and it stung against her skin. But she didn’t die._


	15. Breezeblocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She bruises, coughs, she sputters pistol shots_   
>    
>  _Hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicide.

_12.38am, April 5th, 2018 - Bill's Bathroom_

He stumbled into the bathroom and locked he door behind him, heart floundering, crawling into his throat. 

His chest heaved desperately as he pressed his forehead against the cool wood of the oak door, squeezing his eyes shut. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Beverly’s stirred in the back of his mind. _Take the binder off,_ it supplied. _It’s hurting you._

“I can’t,” Stanley said aloud. “I can’t.” His hysteria came to an almost abrupt stop as he stepped away from the door, looking at himself in Bill’s mirror. 

His auburn curls were greasy from lack of washing and stuck to his forehead. His eyes were dark and rimmed with red, puffy from exhaustion and glinting almost malevolently in the from bathroom lighting. His clothing clung to his rail-thin figure. He looked, simply put, horrible. 

The muffled sound of Bill and Bev’s laughter reached his ears, and his gaze shifted away, towards the gleaming doorknob. Something revolted in his stomach at the light, happy sound. 

Stan couldn’t remember the last time he laughed. 

It was as if the thought released something deep within his mind. Stanley fell to his knees, ripping open bathroom drawers, hands trembling in their desperate search. 

He found a small box of blades. They winked sadistically at him under the light, as if they knew. 

Stan tore open the box and the blades scattered across the tile, the force too much for them to handle. 

In the living room, Bill and Beverly laughed again, and he dropped down from his knees, sitting with his legs crossed.

Stan picked up a razor blade, grasping it firmly between his thumb and forefinger, where it gleamed up at him, a silver sliver of death. 

He took a deep breath and pressed the blade against his skin, air hissing through his teeth as he pushed it deeper and dragged it horizontally across his wrist. He muffled his cry of pain by biting down hard on his tongue. 

Sickening relief flooded his body as hot blood poured down his wrist, coating his fingers and dripping onto the floor. The blade nearly slipped from his fingers as he traded hands. 

He dug the blade into his unharmed wrist and jerked it across, ripping a clear cry of pain from his lips as his life poured freely from his wrists. 

He let the blade slip away as he fell, landing on his back in a pool of his own blood. The sharp copper scent filled his nose as he pressed his cheek against the cool tile. 

The doorknob rattled, and Bev’s concerned voice reached him through the wood. “Stan? Are you okay?” 

_Never better,_ Stan thought, and it was the truth. He felt like he was free, floating. He smiled giddily and a weak giggle fell from his lips. 

“St-Stan?” Bill’s voice came to him as if through a thick fog, and Stan felt a small pull of regret. 

_Sorry, Bill,_ he thought as his mind faded to darkness, and Stanley Uris floated up, up, up. 

_12.41am, April 5th, 2018 - ???_

In. Out. In. Out. 

_"It's gonna be okay, Stan."_

_"How do you know that?"_

“Oh my God, Stanley-" 

"What did he do-" 

_"So you're... t-t-transgender?"_

_"Yeah."_

"Get help!" 

"911, what's your emergency?" 

"M-m-my f-f-friend- I th-think he's d-duh-dying-" 

_"Holy shit, what happened to you?"_

__"Beep-beep, Rich."_ _

__“Sir. Sir, I can't understand you-"_ _

__“Give me the phone!"_ _

___"Do you ever feel wrong?"_ _ _

____"Wrong?"_ _ _ _

___"We're at 315 Johnson Avenue. Yes. Please, I don't think he's gonna make it-"_ _ _

____"Look, it's the tranny!"_ _ _ _

____"Leave me alone, Bowers."_ _ _ _

___"Breathe. Breathe for me, Stanley!"_ _ _

___"We're losing him!"_ _ _

____"Sometimes I don't want to be here anymore."_ _ _ _

____"Don't talk like that, Stan. We'll be here for you."_ _ _ _

___In. Out. In-_ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry


	16. The Ghost Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _At the end of the world or the last thing I see_
> 
> __You are, never coming home, never coming home_ _

_6.45pm, November 12th, 2010 - Bill's Bedroom_

 

_“Georgie’s guh-guh-gone.”_

 

_The words echo around Jessica's head._

 

_Gone._

_Gone._

_**Gone.** _

__

_**Gone.** _

__

_**He's gone.** _


	17. I Will Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _oh, not I  
> _
> 
> _I will survive_
> 
> __and as long as I know how to love I know I'll be alright_ _

_????, April 5th, 2018 - ??_

 

Stanley came to staring at the ceiling of a stark white room. _Is this the afterlife?_  He thought. _God, I hope not..._  Everything hurt, especially his wrists, and a sharp ringing noise filled his ears in time with his fluttering heart. 

 

His eyes snapped all the way open as the realization hit him like a freight train. I'm alive. I survived. No, no, I wasn't supposed to survive. He jerked upright and looked all around the room. 

 

His doorway has blocked, the losers all arguing with a tired-looking nurse. 

 

"Stan!" Beverly shoved past the nurse the second she sees Stan, and she grasped Stan's forearm, tears bright in her eyes. "Why'd you do it?" She asked softly. 

 

All Stan felt was guilt, guilt, guilt, guilt for making all of his friends worry about him. "I'm so sorry," he said, and then he began to cry. 

 

Bill was the next one in, ignoring the nurse's protests, and he wrapped Stanley in a hug, strong and silent. He didn't make a sound, but Stan felt tears on his neck and the guilt washed over him again. 

 

_Selfish, selfish, selfish_. He hugged Bill back, clutching his friend ever-closer to his chest. 

 

The rest of the losers shuffled in. "Guys, you really can't be in here," the nurse said, but they ignore her, instead all wrapping Stan in a big group hug, clinging to him like he was going to dissolve beneath their fingers. 

 

When they drew away, Stan saw a hole. 

 

"Where's Richie?" He asked, then immediately felt bad for expecting him to be there, for expecting anyone to be there. 

 

"Chapel," Eddie said quietly. "Religion always hits the hardest in times of... crisis."

 

"You all need to get out so he can recover." The nurse had left and brought back a doctor, who crosses her arms and glares. 

 

"Sorry," Ben murmured, and they all file out with lingering glances and hushed apologies. 

 

Stan closes his eyes and refuses to cry. 

 

* * *

 

_???? - April 5th, 2018 - recovery._

 

The sight of his parents was met with tears and broken apologies. 

 

"Don't be sorry," Stan said through his tears. "You couldn't have- you didn't know-" He lost his words to a sob, clinging tight to his mother's shirt. 

 

"I should've noticed," she responded, face wet with tears of her own. 

 

His father stood just behind her, a comforting hand on her shoulder and the tears drying on his cheeks the only sign he felt anything at all. 

 

"We almost lost you- I thought-" She began to cry again, hugging Stan tight to her chest and refusing to let go until the doctor came back in to check his vitals. 

 

When they were alone again, his father cleared his throat meaningfully. 

 

"So," he said. "You have something to tell us?" 

 

His tone told Stan that he already knew- but he needed to hear it from Stan. 

 

"Yeah," Stan said quietly. He looked down at his hands. "I'm transgender."

 

"Oh, baby," Mrs. Uris said, reaching up to stroke his cheek, "why didn't you just tell us?"

 

"I was scared," Stan said, and then he was crying again, would you look at that.

  
"Oh, don't be." She held him close to her chest, so tight he could barely breathe. "We love you no matter what." 

 

* * *

 

_7.47am, April 5th, 2018 - recovery_

Bill entered as Bev left, their hands brushing for the briefest of moments in the doorway and a look of guilt exchanged between them. 

 

"H-hey," Bill greeted quietly, as if afraid to scare him. 

 

"Hi," Stan responded, anxiety eating away at his stomach was he waited. The past few hours had been full of tears, shouting matches, and apologies, and he wasn't keen on seeing any from Bill. 

 

Bill gripped the table beside Stan's bed, staring resolutely at the wall. "I sh-should've known," he said, his voice breaking. 

 

"No, Bill, you couldn't have," Stan said, his heart breaking all over again. 

 

"I should've n-noticed because I'm in luh-love with you," Bill said firmly, "and when the p-people you love are in pih-pain, you notice." 

 

Stan froze, his heart thundering in his chest. Bill reached over and brushed his fingers across Stan's cheek, wiping away a stray tear, and then he left, no words left to be said. 

 

Stan reached up and pressed two fingers to his cheek, and he felt something stir in the pit of his gut, something that he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. 

 

Happiness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!! phew, this took SO LONG! Sorry for all the waiting, guys, it was not supposed to take this long to publish.
> 
> Thanks so much for the comments and to all the dedicated readers! I love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on AO3! It's also posted on my tumblr (@ahoydickhead). I'm sorry in advance. This is brutal.
> 
> [rated mature for the suicidal thoughts and tendencies. There’s not any explicit content in this.]


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